


Blindfold

by Coffeepills



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergence, Drabble, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sasuke is still legally underage, Self-Indulgent, Uchiha Itachi Has Issues, Uchiha Sasuke Has Issues, chap 385-385 afermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeepills/pseuds/Coffeepills
Summary: A short drabble on the aftermath of chapters 385-386 (post Uchiha brothers battle). Sasuke awakes hurting, confused as heck, and blindfolded. He is alive when he should not, but why?
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Sasuke
Kudos: 23





	Blindfold

**Author's Note:**

> A short what-if Itachi meant every word when he told Sasuke his biggest lie, post chapter 385. That one is old but dear to me, the writing style (if any) is way too old, but I felt like cross-posting it with a few edits. Which I hope actually fixes some older stuff, sorry otherwise.

When I woke up something soft covered my eyes. The blindfold kept them closed, restricted and obviously sealed. I could feel a wave of cool air brushing against my bruised skin, my whole body hurting from head to toes.

Each muscle still edgy at the past atrocious effort of our battle. It hurt to, even, think about moving, and I could feel several broken bones, albeit they seemed to be in the mend. Overall, my body felt like a pile of shredded meat and bones alike, stuck to the floor.

It hurt so bad, my mind screamed the word _agony_ in an endless-loop. I kept having that twisted mental image of self-writing the word itself on my own skin using my Kusanagi with induced chidori waves spreading and taking over all my senses. At any other moment, this might have led to a new technique in my already ample and hard-cultivated set.

However, now I just lay there, in pain.

I remember the battle that went by only a short while ago.

Itachi and I, we finally met face to face, for real. No more chasing around. Linger on my hate no more. No longer pulling his evasiveness number. We first fought through Sharingan-induced illusions deceiving each other the best we could, taking advantage of any weakness available.

Eventually, Itachi started speaking. More like _spilling the beans_.

After years, almost a life denying me the truth, he was just there standing in front of me and left nothing aside. It sounded surreal, it still does.

Surprisingly enough, he was actually giving me the answers to all those clouded doubts I had accumulated in little more than seven years.

At any other time, I guess, some part of me would have actually appreciated it. Alas, I were not just confused nor hit by sudden enlightenment. I were, for the lack of a better word, _fucking_ overwhelmed.

Could it be possible for a nightmare to get worst in the midst of the very real daylight surrounding us both, at the time? Could it be that _reality_ , as Itachi defended it, was impossible to conjure up at all? My mind could not wrap up about all the connecting dots and facts he threw my way. Our lives, _my_ life a complete and utter lie. Mere illusions he said, as if it did not mean much of a surplus in his equation.

Yet, his reality was, _is_ , a nightmare right up. In fact, it has been, still is, all but a tragic dream that I have no chance to awake from. It is a cold, deliberate and perfectly tied up plan.

That is when it hit me. ‘ _Say Itachi, what am_ _I_ _in your plan?’_

Itachi did not tell straight away, as per usual, but the ugly truth of it still came through. The golden key, the perfect instrument that would take him to success, the ending point of a selfish plan. That is what _I_ was. The role he has assigned with me with, without my knowing of course.

He wanted them, _my eyes_.

How much more can fate be twisted, anyway? How many times can a man fool life itself?

Yet, here I am. Darkness my sole companion, eating it all away. Engulfed in deep thoughts, slight cool air still brushing over my beaten up body. Is wind itself feeling pity for me? I feel the urge to curl and cuddle my body but I stop. There is nobody here to take me into their arms and it hurts so much anyway.

A deep hole soon enough forms in my chest. As realization finally settles, I realize it. I am empty. Stripped of a purpose of my own, I shall remain like that, a meek shell void of any will.

Then, why did I fight so much? Why, on earth, did I have to struggle for so damn long? To suffer so _fucking_ much?

It is faint, but I hear it.

Soft padding and a rustle of clothes make their way towards my spot. My mind abandons its previous train of thoughts, curiosity picked and trepidation alike. Who would be walking in here, given our battle pretty much razed the whole place? Where is _here_ to begin with?

Who could have found me amidst the blood we splattered all around and the thick ash that covered its remains? Who would even care or dare to approach such a place?

Could it be a … _my_ savior?

A sparkle of light tries to worm up my very soul and I wait.

That so called- _savior_ stops next to me. I hear a soft rustle of fabric barely inches away from where I lay as the individual comes down setting my senses on alert. Surprise and uneasiness makes my body flinch ever so slightly when fingers faintly pass over the blindfold. I feel them linger on the wraps until they finally leave it be and move downwards.

The rough pads keep trailing down my skin, my jaws tense for I cannot identify their intent, until they reach my lips.

‘ _Who is there? Who are you…did you come to save me?_ ’ I feel like asking yet no words cross my dry lips.

The parchedness of my mouth and throat had not registered in my mind beforehand. I can feel it now, as if I have not had a drop of water in days. At the back of my mind, I thought implies that might just be the case.

Suddenly my ears capture the sound of a steady breathing getting closer.

Only a short moment later, the breathing comes as close to my face as it can without actually its owner making contact. A few seconds pass, the tenseness in my spine and limbs is making my whole body reach a new hurting threshold that I did not know I could keep quiet about, but somewhat finally manage to.

Soon enough, skin brushes over mine tracing a path down my cheekbone, a velvet and full kind of skin. Lips.

A short puff of air leaves my lungs in surprise and they constrict anew, painfully.

It is only a short way until those lips close onto my dried ones.

This time around, a pained moan escapes my throat. Angriness takes over following suit. ' _What is going on? Do I look like I need to be kissed right now?'_ _If only the endless throbbing would give me a break. I cannot express my anger and not scream in pain at the same time. That is until my keeper speaks and everything stills._

“I can be not only your doom but your savior as well. _Little brother_.”

The voice itself stings, eliciting a new wave of pain to travel across my limbs. The thought of escaping is only that, an idea that cannot destroy the perpetual nightmare I have to endure. 

“ _I_ - _Itachi_ ” anger rises in my unexpectedly recovered ability to speak. The word spat in all the venom I can muster to convey without physically hurling at him. Which obviously I cannot do at the time.

“ _Shuu_ -Sasuke.” A finger against my lips and his breath against my ear. “You have made me whole _again_ …” the faint ‘ _hum_ ’ of his throat is the tell-tale of his wholly satisfaction. I can sense something else though, something he does not voice as the words die down to a whisper.

A soft tingle on my cheek betrays the presence of a lock of his hair until his hands wrap around my face, gently at that, and our foreheads come into contact. Again, gently.

At that point, my mind is a mess of hurting spikes courtesy of my hurt body, a kaleidoscope of memories filled with messy battle and blood, lies, half-truths and everything in between.

“Now, let me _pay_ you back.” He speaks so softly, so carelessly, as if everything is right again. Was it ever? I wonder idly.

Unexpectedly, the blindfold falls, softly if not for the mid-pull on the cloth behind my head. Alas, darkness remains. It holds soft hue of red, as if a filter covers its blackness.

I am not that hopeful to think it might be light. Those are remains of the sharingan veil.

 _His_ sharingan, as I come to realize.

I cannot react nor think at all. All I know is that I am _blind_.

There are no more all-seeing all-catching eyes on my face. Gone are the cold or bitter looks I could give people.

No more blood-red eyes reflecting in my own, just as they did in our last showdown. Itachi’s eyes, his red orbs haunting me daily for long, ever struggling, seven years.

Before I can manage to expel the pit-less anguish now constricting my lungs and numbing my mind, all I feel are his lips when he kisses me again.

Strangely enough, I cannot find it in myself to fight nor close my dry chapped lips while he embraces my broken body into his strong arms. His touch remains gentle; more so than I could even remember before. It hurts still, but it is as if he is afraid. Afraid that I would break.

Well, more than I already am. More than _he_ already broke me. 

“I will be _your_ savior now, Sasuke.” He repeats, and it sounds like he would have said another word.

I could care less though; I can no longer _see_ his face. Neither can I use my eyes to keep track of reality. ‘ _Not that it helped before_ ’ I would scoff if I could even be capable of that, or had the remaining will to do so. A numbness I have not been aware of is creeping its way in my endless darkness.

His voice is soft, breathy even, as if he was reciting a promise, a prayer perhaps. To whom? I cannot tell for I cannot see his truth or his deceiving, _anew_.

Already, I feel myself drifting away.

His breath lingers, the warmth of his body feels like falling in a dreamless state. A state I am unfamiliar to, and unsure I should embrace, if ever.

A new blindfold is in place, one I cannot see per se. Yet, I can feel it as it wraps itself on my mind and my heart.

I no longer resist the pull of darkness. It is long time to let go...

.

.

.

_The end._


End file.
